


Why Don't You Know

by euridamelia



Category: IOI, Kim Chungha - Fandom, NCT, NCT127, lee taeyong - Fandom
Genre: Angst, Childhood Frenemies, College AU, Comfort, Depression, EXO - Freeform, F/F, F/M, Family, Fluff, Friendship, Gugudan - Freeform, Heterosexual relationships, M/M, Mentioned SHINee Ensemble, Multi, Panic Attacks, Smut, Two sexy dancing machines, You Have Been Warned, beautiful singers too, don't read if you dislike explicit scenes, gay relationships, love-hate sort of relationship, multipair, nct - Freeform, nct127 - Freeform, trigger warning
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-08-01
Updated: 2020-11-07
Packaged: 2021-03-05 23:21:59
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 13,128
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25653568
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/euridamelia/pseuds/euridamelia
Summary: Sometimes, Kim Chungha wondered if the world hated her. Or maybe the Greek Gods thought her introverted ass was too boring for her own good so they decided to clown her for entertainment purposes? Or both?Because discovering that she had to share a room with someone who’s not from her trusted little circle of friends was already bad enough, but then he had to be an emotionally confusing, overconfident but antisocial gaming addict who thought he’s too handsome to give a damn about the universe.Yep. The world definitely has favorites. And she ain’t one of ‘em. (AU)
Relationships: Byun Baekhyun/Kim Taeyeon, Do Kyungsoo | D.O/Lee Jieun | IU, Jennie Kim/Kim Jongin | Kai, Jung Yoonoh | Jaehyun/Kim Yerim | Yeri, Kang Mina/Mark Lee (NCT), Kim Chungha and Lee Taeyong, Kim Chungha/Lee Taeyong, Kim Dongyoung | Doyoung/Kim Sejeong, Kim Dongyoung | Doyoung/Suh Youngho | Johnny, Kim Nayoung/Kim Sejeong, Kim Nayoung/Park Chanyeol, Kim Sejeong/Oh Sehun, Park Jinyoung/Kang Seulgi, Park Sooyoung | Joy/Yook Sungjae, Son Seungwan | Wendy/Suh Youngho | Johnny, Song Yuqi/Wong Yuk Hei | Lucas
Comments: 15
Kudos: 42





	1. I'm the one who's right, so why are you being like that

______________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

"Chungha?"

She was ready to tear the darned piece of paper into shreds. No, scratch on it relentlessly with her newly sharpened, multicolored nails until she feels it coming together underneath her fingers, like how Bambi gnawed on her world literature assignment when she was busy singing her lungs (and diaphragm, with her head voice) in the shower two nights ago.

"What's wrong with you?" Sejeong, the old man of their all-girl group of friends, nudged her side.

She simply handed the paper to her, seething. "Read it for yourself."

SM BUILDING, FLAT 127

Occupants:

Kim Chungha  
22 years old  
4th year  
Major in Biology

Lee Taeyong  
23 years old  
4th year  
Major in Computer Engineering

The 4 girls who went along with her cried out in unison.

"Oh, my god—"  
"No way!?"  
"Heavens above, Chungha. You remind me of that Celine Dion song. It was so long agooo~ but it's all coming back to meeee~~"  
"Your 22 year-old ass is finally getting laid!! Leave the V-card out of the doorstep—"

"Be quiet, all of you!" She briskly walked out from the dorm arrangement committee and left her half-chaotic, half-exuberant friends all by themselves. She pushed her way in between the loud, obnoxious college students who were also anxious to see who they were paired in their flat.

_Lee Taeyong? TY track? Hardcore All-Around Gaming and Lady and Gay Killer?_

The most annoying thing was, the room occupant arrangements could not be changed anymore.. Unless if there was a violation of the Code of Ethics of the university, or if one filed a legal complaint against the other. She haven't met him _yet_. Or at least haven't met him that day. Ugh.

The handles of her car were icy cold when she went in to calm herself. She turned the engine on to start the heater, briefly letting her shivering fingers linger in front of the exhaust. A headache was starting to ghost underneath her temples.

_She just couldn't believe it. Of all the people, why does it have to be..?_

Taking a couple of deep breaths, she willed herself to recenter. The things for her room and her humble amount of clothes already took up the entire space of her CR-V. Not that she had a lot to begin with. She also had her mountain bike disassembled, and some yoga mats.. Yeah. The only thing for her to do was to drive about 2 blocks away from the school parking lot, and viola, she'd be saying hello to her new home.. and God forbid, her housemate.

And the committee head had to have the audacity to smile when she casually informed her that her housemate had already been staying in his— _their_ flat since yesterday.

 _Why_ did she not double check her mail during the summer break, anyway? She could've at least begged the administration to put her with someone else. Heck, just put her in the room beside the sewer tank to save her peace of mind...

_(..Chungha-yah. This is Tyongie, our neighbor's son. He's 12 years old, just a year older than you. Say hi to him, dear. He's nice and he dances really good, just like you. He will be your partn—)_

She parked her car in front of the entrance. There was a designated parking space on the other side of the street but her lazy, scrawny self was not going to drag her mattress and luggages along the 15-meter distance, thank you very much. A stern-looking guard waited for her to hand over her things, and he helped her carry them all the way to the elevator.

This building was definitely so much bigger and fancier than her previous lodging but.. She was starting to miss the latter for its homier, more welcoming vibe.

The guard pressed the button for her. 5th floor, flat 127... She hated it already

———————————

She swore she could've hit him with her new frying pan.

The boy nonchalantly went pass her and walked around the kitchen with a half-finished sandwich on his mouth. The TV was on, the house was perfectly clean, her things had already been settled to the room beside his.. _And he was wearing nothing but a freaking towel on his waist._

"Do you mind.." She counted from one to ten. ".. practicing a semblance of decency?"

He briefly gave her a once over before turning his attention to the pantry. "Hey, did you see the loaf of bread I just bought an hour ago?"

She gritted her teeth while pointing at the fridge. He frowned as he took it out. "Why did you place it here? You know that this should be eaten warm, right?"

"Can you please—"

"You're not supposed to put fresh bread on the fridge. it will stale faster if you do that. This isn't cheap, you know. I had to wait for a specific time because this is baked in a controlled setti—"

_"Lee Taeyong! Put some clothes on!"_

He stopped for a minute to stare at her adorably distraught expression. Then he looked down on himself, and looked up at her again with a smirk. He knew that he looked extra good, especially since he just got out from the shower. And, he worked hard for these abs, ahem. His family had constantly been told on how unworldly good-looking he was ever since he learned how to walk up until he grew to be one of the most sought after gentlemen in their university, if not the most sought-after (he humbly conceded, because he personally thought that title belonged to Jaehyun). It's not that he was a cocky bastard about his looks, anyway. In fact it made him uncomfortable whenever people see him as nothing but a visual.

But teasing this wholesome little babe gave him so much satisfaction even way, way, back then. Imagine his amusement when he was informed of their room placement. His mom and sister were actually laughing when he told them about it.

"Aigoo, Chungha-yah. Are you still that affected of me?" He leaned against the table with a naughty grin ".. It's not like you haven't seen me naked before."

Her face turned 100 shades of red. "You son of a—!"

He knew she couldn't bear his smugness about it, either.

"Okay, okay. I'm just messing around." He laughingly raised his hands in mock defeat before her pink frying pan hit his bare shoulder. The girl was still fuming when he scampered back into his room with his beloved bread in one hand, not even bothering to lock the door while he changed (maybe she'd think of barging in to kick his naked ass?).

Beneath her shy and delicate exterior, Taeyong knew how extreme she was when she became all fired up. She would stop at literally nothing until she proved to everyone that she was not someone to be mess with. It definitely surprised him the first time it happened, since she seemed to be an introvert with a low-battery state most of the time but.. He knew more than anyone. He had been a direct receiver for countless of times already.

When they were still kids, he found it cute. But now that they have grown up, it's just.. Well. 

Let's just say that the tough and feisty are the ones who want to _handle_ but are also the ones who _don't want to be handled_.

And _being handled_ is definitely up there in his list of not-so-secret kinks.

_Yep.. This is gonna be a very interesting year._


	2. keep saying nothing's going on between us

According to Chungha, there's nothing beautiful about her in the morning.

She'd attest to it to the fact that whenever there was always somewhere to be, something to do, she was usually rushing to get to it in a timely manner. She was approximately ten minutes late to everything - every gala, every date, every campus event, and damn near all of her classes, which was a nasty habit she must quit since she'd be wasting tuition money if the professor would not even let her get into class.

So that's why she was stumbling around her flat in the morning, trying to shower while brushing her teeth, or putting on a pair of socks while she was brewing her to-go cup of coffee. She didn't even had the time to curse when she scanned through her phone to be bombarded with dozens of messages from her group chat box.

_6:45 AM  
Good morning, future biologists!~Rise and shine for a new year of positive suffering!  
\- Sejeong_

_6:52 AM  
Someone's in a good mood today..  
\- Doyoung_

_6:55  
Ah, well of course! I miss you guys~  
Even after 4 years of endless trouble with you two  
I'm still excited to see you both for the new semester <3  
\- Sejeong_

_7:00  
Ahhh, really.. We saw each other last week during enrollment period  
But you're more excited to see Sehun-sunbaenim  
\- Doyoung_

_7:10 AM  
Chunghaaaaa goodmoooorninnnng wake up_   
_Wakey-wakey, Annieeee~  
\- Sejeong_

_7:11 AM  
Chungha. Don't forget our term paper from last semester. You still have it, right?  
\- Doyoung_

_7:11 AM  
Doyoungie, omg, you're as cold as the morning air.   
Hahahahaha   
\- Sejeong_

_7:14 AM  
I'm just making sure she won't forget tho.  
Chungha_   
_Don't be late and drink coffee before you come here okay?_   
_We don't want you to be kicked out of class for snoozing again  
I'd feel bad for your grades  
I might beat you in the exam again  
-Doyoung_

She tossed her too-fat textbooks into her plain black Jansport while hand brushing the tangles of her very wet hair, leaving water droplets on the floor. She swore she had set at least 15 alarms last night, but it seemed like even that could not penetrate her sleepy skull. Only when the irritated, sleep-deprived Taeyong actually barged into her room to turn off the blearing alarms himself and manhandled her like a sack of potatoes on his shoulder towards the bathroom, that she managed to make sense that she was, in fact, in big trouble on her first day.

Running at full speed towards her car, Chungha was out of the apartment complex's parking lot within seconds and pulling into the university's parking lot within minutes.

_7:25  
Where are you? Professor Kyungsoo is our first subject_  
 _He's cool but I heard from Choi Minho-sunbaenim that he's very strict._  
 _Come here already!  
_ _We must make a good impression because first impressions last!_  
 _\- Doyoung_

 _7:26  
Chungha-yah! Don't forget to enter at the back door!  
_ _Professor Kyungsoo might lock the front  
We'll save a seat for you.  
Doyoungie is going crazy nervous bc he's a Kyungfanboy  
hahahahahahha  
Anyway, fighting!  
Don't trip on your feet in the middle of the stairs again!  
-Sejeong_

_\------------------------_

Watching a stressed girl fuss around their apartment like a madwoman wasn't _exactly_ Taeyong's ideal way to spend the morning, to be honest. Currently he was in dire need of at least four hours of sleep because he was up until three in the morning to help Haechan and Johnny get double kills. But his annoyance towards his roommate quickly dissipated when she literally had a panic attack in front of him, nearly tossing her clothes aside and completely ignoring his presence when she realized how 'late' it already was (he normally wakes up at 12 noon _wdym_?) but he stepped out right before she could flash a hint of her bare skin (he didn't need more Chungha-related dirty thoughts than usual, because it was still so fucking early in the morning and he did respect her enough to keep himself in check despite his blasting male hormones whenever she was around the vicinity).

Normally he would have teased her a bit, made her blush, or leave a snarky comment to annoy her but..

He awkwardly stood outside and waited for a few minutes to make sure if she was _really_ okay (she might actually bonk her head somewhere if she didn't calm down) before begrudgingly deciding to just go along with his typical morning routine in the kitchen.

So he quietly drank his coffee while she freaked out. She didn't even notice the plate full of sausages, eggs, and french toast that was somewhat similar to his. Only that hers had a little swirl of red on the side since she had a strange addiction for tomato ketchup. She was already out before he could blink and even forgot her coffee and the baseball cap she always wore on top of the dining table.

Taeyong shook his head, dragging the untouched platter towards him. "Guess I'll just have two meals for breakfast, then."

He remembered why he was just not in the mood to joke around today.

\-------------------------

By the time class was about to start, Chungha was already slipping into the classroom as her stony-faced teacher was still out in the hall, speaking with a happy-looking faculty she recognized as Dr. Xiumin. Professor Kyungsoo narrowed his eyes sharply at her as she sped past them, but she didn't spare him a glance. After passing the dreaded entrance, she walked up through the low-rise seats and dropped down in between her long time study gang and drinking/squabble buddies. Sejeong was the first to giggle while pulling her palms up towards Doyoung, who had a look of defeat written on his face.

"Pay up, champ." Sejeong gestured, earning a confused look from the one who just arrived.

"Ugh, I hate this game." Doyoung groaned as he handed a crisp 2000 won to Sejeong. 

"What the h-you guys were betting on me getting late?!"

"Shh! Professor Kyungsoo's about to start!"

"I swear to God you tw-"

"My money-"

"Hello, good morning everyone." The deep baritone of young professor resonated in the entire auditorium. "I am Professor Do Kyungsoo, and I will handle Biology 272, or generally referred to as Plant Morphology and Taxonomy. I expect a lot from this class and I hope to work well with you all." 

More than half of the female population swooned while the male wished to be as smooth as him. Chungha and Sejeong exchanged impressed glances when the man humbly divulged his _long_ list of achievements. Doyoung fought the urge to clap. "Man, he's really amazing. Isn't he?"

Sejeong gave him a sassy wink. "Looks like someone's got a man-crush."

"Ah, Sejeong it's not like that!"

"There's no need to be shy~ We still love you for who you are, Doyoungie"

"No! it's really not like that!"

Chungha glanced at her two close friends back and forth as they bickered quietly, the professor's voice gradually zoning out of her thoughts. She found it rather bittersweet that Doyoung's deepening feelings towards Sejeong were only known by her. She asked him about it one night after too many bottles of soju and samgyeupsal, when Sejeong was long passed out on the side.

_Why don't you tell her? You've been pinning since freshman year, Doyoung-ah.._

_Please, as if Sehun-sunbaenim isn't sweeping her feet at any chance he gets?_

_But, Doyoungaaah~, they're not even going out yet, why do you give up so easily?_

_I could ask you the same thing. How could you do that to Taeyong and completely leave everything and everyone behind?_

_Hey! That was a completely different situation!_

_Chungha-_

_Fine, don't tell her. But don't tell me I never convinced you and don't you dare tell me that you regretted not doing anything about it, you punk_

_I'm sorry-_

_I'm going home. Goodnight._

Chungha forced herself to stop backtracking too deeply. This would not do her any good at this point anymore, so she better take note of all the tasks and schedules the new professor was giving. Apparently, Professor Kyungsoo wanted to collaborate with Ms. Lee Ji-Eun, the new Research head, for the monitoring and guidance of the 4th year students' thesis proposal. It would be a very busy year for everyone, he said, so they must equip themselves well with enough knowledge and grit. Doyoung and Sejeong had finally stopped quarreling amongst themselves and had opened their notebooks in front of their desks. She did the same.

She paused a bit, when she realized what day it was.

August 12.

The past was a good place to visit, like a monument or a museum, but she didn't want to live there.

\--------------------------

"Bitch, I fucking ripped his ass!!!"

"Haechan, that was cheating."

"Hell, no, Jaehyun-hyung! He deserved that shit! Take that! And that! Damn you!"

"Hey! Keep your voices down!"

"Awch, sorry Yuta-hyung.. Winwin-hyung help me out here, quick! Turn on your phone and connect with us! Taeil-hyung is dying!"

Taeyong sighed for the umpteenth time that day. The rowdy pack of hooligans self-invited themselves without prior notice when they discovered that he was just loitering around peacefully in the apartment. Their _totally_ convincing worry when they appeared at the front door was that his antisocial tendencies might get the best of him and turn him into a living zombie. He begged to differ. There's simply no way that was the only thing on their minds when he saw 5 huge bags of junk food and 2 plastics filled with cold beer cans.

"Color me impressed," he drawled sarcastically when they huddled tightly in the center of their considerably tiny living room. ".. But I'm pretty sure all of you know that I'm _not_ good with handling alcohol."

 _"Oh, c'mon!_ " Johnny grinned in flawless english, his signature toothy smile and American shindig probably lighting up a quarter of a damn mile. "We missed you, our dear lovely leader!"

Taeyong groaned, reaching out to unsuccessfully push Johnny's gigantic stature away from him. "What exactly are you guys here for? You literally just live on the tenth floor! Y'coulda just called or something. And-Yuta, what are you looking for?" He prompted, directing his gaze to the man who kept on turning his head around as if there was a bug flying.

The man in question paused, before smirking impishly. "Where's your hot roommate? Did you hide her in the bathroom?"

..

Taeyong stared at him.. Them.

_Oh, for fuck's sake.._

_\-------------------------_

_8:20 PM_

"So nothing really happened between you and this Chungha chick, for, like a week of living together? Really?!" Johnny was aghast, and for this he threw the remaining contents of the beer in his mouth to cover his disbelief.

"Taeyong-hyung, I know you're aloof as hell, but have you seriously gone as far as to become a celibate? It's normal for a healthy male to have sex! I'm worried for you, hyung!" Haechan wailed.

"C'mon Yong we'd totally understand if you're not gonna spill.. But at least tell us what level you are on PUBG?" Winwin muttered indifferently, his face still fixated on his mobile game.

Taeyong could feel several arteries popping somewhere across his head as he tried to sort their array of questions one by one. A hint of migraine was already starting to bloom full beneath his occiput, causing his hand to involuntarily reach for that area. "I'm telling all of you, nothing happened, okay? It's not like that with her. We're not even remotely friends. We just happened to share the same living space, that's all."

"Okay, okay, we understand, Yong." Taeil's soft, calming voice slightly comforted him.

But not until Jaehyun decided to open his mouth.

"Is it true that you used to be really close when you were kids?"

"I- yes, that's true." Shit, he couldn't have chosen a better timing for sensitive questions. "But that was a long time ago." _Please just drop it. Just fucking drop it._

"Why, did something happen between you? Did you date before?" 

".. No, Yuta. She's not-we, no. We've.. never dated."

"Then how come-"

The front door opened to reveal a deadbeat Chungha, whose entire upper body was nearly covered by her thick biology books in her arms. She took one look towards the muted confusion in front of her in bewilderment, proceeded to give them some autopilot pleasantries as if a group of random college boys in their abode was a normal occurrence in their day-to-day lives, and excused herself to her room. The boys could only stare at each other.

"What the flying-SHE'S SO FUCKING PRETTY WHAT?!" Haechan basically whisper-screamed at everyone and no one in particular.

"Yo! Taeyong, be a good sport and introduce me to her!"

"What, guys are we not gonna continue the game or?"

The commotion was at large even though the boys aside from Taeyong tried their best to be as chaotically quiet as possible. But Taeyong could not concentrate on them anymore. He stared at Chungha's closed door, a dull ache softly pressing on his chest.

_\-------------------------_

The only light that illuminated Chungha's room was her lamp shade and laptop. Behind her, heaps of proposal papers with fresh corrections from Miss Ji-Eun were scattered haphazardly in her usually clean bed. She had also received Key-sunbaenim and Choi Minho sunbaenim's previous defense papers as a reference on her way home, that was why she arrived _much_ later than usual.

Her alumni were very kind and helpful people, but she swore they could definitely talk her damn ears off.

Right now she opted to work on Professor Junmyeon's historical psychology assignment. He was a very upper-class kind of rich academia who loved difficult expressions and complex sentences so she prepared her mini thesaurus beside her, just in case she need to search for fancy words. Managing to spare a glance at her digital wall clock, which flashed 11:43 PM (what? It's that late already?), Chungha typed away in pressured haste, desperate to get a good shut-eye. Their apartment had long been silent since she arrived, thank god. Her roommate had probably sent his friends home before they could even retaliate, since she could hear him yelling earlier amidst their hurly burly that he would escort them downstairs.

Her stomach grumbled, reminding her that she had barely eaten anything the whole day aside from the coffee she got from the cafeteria dispenser. 

_Ugh, so that's the reason why Doyoung was calling her great-grandma more than fifty times the entire day._

She buried her face in her aching hands, rubbing it with more force than needed. She didn't want to go out of her room but she was _so_ hungry that she could've eaten her carrot stuff toy if only she wasn't half-sane. She debated within herself for about 10 minutes, whether to _be_ _a normal human being_ or _just sleep her hunger away and eat tomorrow._

If there was a zombie apocalypse, she was sure that she would die first.

She turned off her laptop, got up, and stretched her limbs a bit, feeling her bones crack satisfyingly. She didn't know how she would survive tomorrow but she will try. She will wake up early and be healthy and _herself._ Tomorrow she will-

"Hey.. Chungha-yah. You awake?"

A deep, husky voice she had grown accustomed to pulled her out of her reverie. She almost smiled bitterly when she remembered how inexplicably petite he used to be compared to other twelve year old boys, how his high-pitched shriek in a horror house could put little girls to shame. Now, he was anything _but_ that, and it made her wonder how time and experiences ~~and pain~~ change people so much they become unrecognizable.

"Yeah, wait a minute." She muttered softly, scrambling to get to her door. Her voice was kind of raspy from disuse, so when he placed a couple of styrofoam containers filled with toppoki and other various dishes, her throat literally failed her.

"You haven't eaten the entire day again, have you?"

She didn't respond. All she was able to do was stare blankly at the food on her table.

"H-how.. how much does this cost? I'll pay you." She turned to get her bag, desperately trying to avoid his eyes. No, she did not want to look weaker than she already was. No, she was not going to cry. And yes, she's an independent woman who can pull her shit together.

"No. It's fine. Consider this as an apology for letting my friends go into our personal space without telling you about it." He firmly held her wrist before she could even open her purse. This caused her to immediately snap up, wanting to yell at him for invading her personal space, but then she ended up looking straight into his eyes. They were soft.

_Too soft. Like a boy running at the creek beside the mountain, laughing carelessly while the dogs chased him, with leaves on his hands and and a flower crown that she made on his head-_

She pulled away immediately and cleared her throat, a muffled thanks slipping between her teeth. She felt his eyes on her while she poked on her things to give more space to the smoking platter. He sighed before he slowly backed away, until he reached her opened door, and let himself linger for a bit.

"And, I'm sorry for what happened exactly seven years ago."

Chungha bit her lip.

Then her door closed, leaving her to her thoughts.


	3. Tell me some of your story

**_AUTHOR’S NOTE at the last part!!! Please read till the end :)_ **

——————————————————————-

_(~Now playing: Jeremy Zucker - End~)_

It was still dark and drizzling when he sat on his window sill, slumped back against the wall with his legs curled up, feet crossed. A large mug of green tea on his lap, his thumb trailing across the rim as he cast his gaze to the dawn ridden streets below. The apartment was on the fifth floor of the building, but Taeyong could still make out the tired faces of people under their see-through umbrellas, either coming home or going out, and his eyes were bridled with exhaustion when he thought of how he’d be joining the latter in a matter of minutes.

_~I should've seen this through_

_But I knew how it could end_

_Yeah, I guess things don't change_

_I let feelings fade again_

_But I see you clear as day_

_And I won't let go_

_What I called a home, unless_

_You slip right through my fingers in the rain_

_But I've thrown it all_

_Over waterfalls~_

He didn’t sleep a wink for the entire night.

He checked his phone then, clicking the screen on briefly before he drew his head back against the wall, savoring the last two minutes he had to spare until he finally got up. He managed to stop when he reached the full-body mirror to rub the sleepiness off his darkened eyebags, before dragging himself towards the bathroom.

The water felt like ice pellets on his sensitive skin. The soft undertones of his bluetooth speaker complimented the marble white of the tiles, its sound resonating the room like a choir in church. It was a comfort for him, to be surrounded by what he was really passionate about: music.

He was half-startled to see the reason why his mind was a jumbled haze by the time he was finished with his shower, already dressed up and sitting on their dining area. When she saw him, she stood up and walked to where he was standing until she was only a meter away. He thought she’d leave first, since they concluded the night before with reopened scars and uncertainty. For the past seven days it seemed that it was an unspoken rule that none of them should mention a thing about years ago, or their connections, or even their childhood.

Which was so fucking hard to do, anyway, since it’s not like he could simply control + alt + delete _everything._

So of course, being his rebellious self when it came to Chungha, he had to be the one to break the rule.

He stood his ground while she built her composure (and _confidence_ —he was hit with nostalgia when he realized how she never changed the habit of biting her plump lower lip every time she had to say something uncomfortable). The first ray of morning sunlight came through the window, casting a soft glow to her face.

“Hey, um, listen..” She trailed off, suddenly not knowing what to say. He just continued to stare, taking his time to study the golden flecks in her brown eyes to the smoothness of her skin. “I—um, was kind of thinking of um, what you said.”

“Yeah?” His music was still playing in the background as they spoke in quiet volumes, as if someone else could hear them. ”What about it?”

_~What's wrong with the lights low?_

_Just tell me what it is you're tryna say_

_'Cause in the end you'll understand_

_I'm already a world away, yeah~_

“Can we just—like, forget about everything?”

_~And I see you haven't changed_

_'Cause this shit gets old_

_With a heart of gold, you know_

_If I need you, I'll see you in my dreams_

_But I've thrown it all_

_Over waterfalls~_

“You’re saying that I will pretend as if we don’t know each other?”

“No, that’s.. that’s kind of impossible. Our families are tight, and a lot of people know we’re friends when we were children.”

“Exactly. So, what the hell are you saying right now, Chungha? It doesn’t make sense.”

“I mean, if people were to ask you how we were before, you can just tell them that there's nothing much to talk about, because we were very young back then, and we simply grew apart when we grew older. You don’t know me that much anymore, and I don’t know you now as much, either. In that way, it’s not a lie, right? I know that people would ask. They’ve asked me about you dozens of times already.”

“And that’s what you told them.”

“Yeah. And you can tell them that you’re not interested in being as close with me again because we’re too different.”

_~I'm staring at the clouds_

_You know I hate this weather_

_But we can work it out_

_I swear I could do better if you let me_

_Ooh, so we wait for things to change_

_Ooh, I never thought that this could end_

_If I'm not with you how could I fall asleep again?~_

He took a deep breath, his eyes never leaving her face when he reached their ultimatum. “Is this what you really want?”

“Yes.” _In this way, we can go on with our lives, no matter how hollow I am feeling right now._

_~You know that I've been here times before_

_And no one's watching_

_You won't always know, that's right_

_You won't ever know my life_

_It's on the table_

_Like they always told me_

_I would be the same but_

_I'm just feeling phony_

_They don't really notice_

_You don't really know me~_

“..You should go.” His voice became uncharacteristically rough as he turned away to go into his room. “You’ll be late.”

And just like that, Taeyong slammed the door to her face.

—————————————————————-

When Chungha was still a freshman, she lived in a humble studio-type apartment located about fifty minutes away from the university.

The MNH building complex had 3 floors, with 8 rooms in each floor and 2 common laundry areas. There were a couple of trees surrounding the lot, some vines creeping into the pastel yellow walls that was slightly faded due to time. Tabby cats often loitered around the vicinity, most of them settling at the owner’s adorable rooftop garden that was overlooking the river nearby.

The medium-sized room she shared with Kim Nayoung, a tall theater-major student with a boisterous laugh, consisted of a little pink kitchen, a wooden bunk bed that was leaning on one side of the room, a big old baby blue kotatsu that Nayoung bought in Amazon for half the price, some of Chungha’s old aluminum bookshelves with both of their books haphazardly arranged in different colors and sizes, some settled on the floor, because both of them were avid fan girls of trashy romance and thriller novels, a cheap LCD TV that they both bought with their part time job paychecks, a white vanity table stuffed with bottles of half-consumed manicure and perfume with a drawer filled to the brim with assorted make-up and accessories, a single bathroom with bottles ofstrawberry and vanilla shampoo and liquid body soap (and some essential oils!), with lotions and medicine on the mirror cabinet.

It wasn’t much, but it was home to her.

She and Nayoung immediately clicked the moment they met at the apartment’s entrance. Apparently, they were studying in the same university but of different departments, that’s why they weren’t able to meet each other on campus. Nayoung admitted during their first night, when their steaming double-crusted pizza box was settled on the floor because there were no tables yet, that before she came around she initially thought of getting into a dorm that was just near the school, but then she was a part-time coffee barista a few blocks away from their apartment. She just couldn’t risk losing her job because the owner was a workaholic junkie and his generous monthly paycheck was what’s helping her pay her school fees.

“I’m also a part-time dance instructor! You see the dance studio across the drugstore?” Chungha cheerfully rambled before stuffing the thick mozarella cheese into her mouth.

“Oh! The one owned by Miss BoA?”

“Yes! But I’m just her assistant, though. She’s a living legend.”

“I love that woman. I aspire to be as gorgeous as her when I get to her age.” Nayoung batted her eyelashes as she dramatically fanned herself with the pizza flyers. Chungha cackled. This woman’s a crazy one, and she was already loving her with each passing minute. “By the way, my best friend’s in your department. Do you know Kim Sejeong?”

“.. Kim Sejeong?” Chungha pondered for a bit, until she remembered the newly-elected vice president of the biology department, who made an opening speech that was worthy of a grammy award. “Is she the one with the voice as pretty as her face?”

“Yes! Did she flash pictures of her little french bulldog during your report?” Chungha laughed in agreement. Nayoung became twice as hyperactive, as if she wasn’t already, and wrung her arms around. “We’re in the same theater club in high school. I invited her to come over the weekend. Is that alright?” She grinned. “She’s really nice and a bit of a kinky mess, especially with girls like you. You’ll love her.”

“What? But Kim Sejeong seemed really formal to me?” Chungha shook her head in amused disbelief. “Are you sure we’re talking about the same Kim Sejeong?”

“Oh, honey! You’ll be surprised.” Nayoung rolled her eyes. “She’s the dirtiest middle-aged man who will grope you in the ass in about, ten seconds flat. Trust me.”

“No way!”

“BET.”

And true enough, over the weekend, Chungha’s butt was sore from all the butt slapping. But she was so happy with them that she wouldn’t have it any other way.

The three girls spent their days in the sunny apartment when they didn’t have classes. Or sometimes in Nayoung’s workplace, in which she discovered later on that it was owned by the family of a young and famous music producer named Park Chanyeol, wherein Sejeong and Chungha preferred to work on their projects. It was also right then when Sejeong loudly declared that they should be paired together for life (or, to be less theatrical, in terms of school projects), mainly because they’re both Kim ( _“We could’ve been sisters, Chungha-yah!”_ ), and because they were equally driven when it came to their academics. Sejeong’s extroverted nature made her incredible during case defenses and extemporaneous speeches—she could expertly banter against their professors’ relentless tirades with her confidence and wit.

According to her, she totally complimented Chungha’s introverted nature, and the former’s point-blank focus and self-awareness could pull her back to earth whenever she became too scatter-brained.

Chungha tried her best not to chortle while she pulled the exceedingly animated Sejeong back to her seat, fully aware of the confused stares from the other students in the coffee shop.

So both of them aced their exams and lab works rather smoothly. Not too long after, they were nicknamed “The Perfect Two” by the whole department for having the looks, the brains, and the talent (but it felt kind of weird to Chungha because her awkwardness couldn’t handle too much compliments, sorry).

But when one of their lab works required a 3-man team, they were at a loss. Everyone else was either too intimidated by them, or was too nervous to break the balance of The Perfect Two, that they couldn’t dare volunteer to be the 3rd person. Sejeong, being the kind dear that she was, reassured them that they do not bite.

“Excuse me,” a boy behind them cleared his throat. “May I be a part of your group? Nobody in this class seemed to be interested to be in the same group as me.

Both girls turned their heads. Sejeong’s eyes widened in surprise. “Doyoungie!” She gave the tepid boy a smile before nodding enthusiastically. “Why would you even say that nobody wants to be with you? You’re literally the smartest in this class!”

“Maybe because I’m too straight-laced?” He shrugged, proceeding to sit beside the bubbly Sejeong, while Chungha timidly looked at him with curiosity. “I don’t know. Not everyone has the same disposition as you, Sejeong.”

“Aigoo! They should know better, Doyoungie! You’re a very nice person!”

Doyoung pointedly eyed her, before casting his eyes on Chungha. “Hello, I’m Kim Doyoung.” He bowed before offering his hand. He shook her hand like a government candidate. “We should be named The Three Kims, now. You are a Kim too, right? Kim Chungha?”

“Um—“

“Oh my God, Doyoungie! How could you even introduce yourself to a beautiful girl that way?” Sejeong was clutching her stomach, tears forming at the corners of her eyes.

“I’m trying to be formal, Sejeong!”

“Formal is different from being embarrassing! Be a lil’ smoother, you know!”

The two bantered like children all throughout the activity while Chungha laughed at them. Days turned to weeks, turning to months, then reached an entire year, and they had become her constant to-go people in both academic matters and school gossip. Doyoung’s vast knowledge about everyone’s relationships over glazed donuts and double-chocolate chip latte kept her constantly amazed and scared (the dude could totally work as an investigator), and he opted to spend his lazy time with them in Coffee Park. Or the local karaoke house. Or the beach two hours away from their place. Whichever was fine.

Nayoung had finally joined the bully-Doyoung-until-the-bunny-snaps mission, and he bullied them back with equal force, but it was all in lighthearted tones and endless drunk guffaws that kept them all sane in the midst of their busy schedules. They reached the point of utter silliness that they called themselves 4Kims, since all of them, funnily enough, had Kim for a last name.

They were living the mundane, stressed-out life of typical sleep-deprived college students, and it was happiness in a little cup for her.

But when a call from overseas told her to pack her bags one lousy morning, during her last semester in third year, she was suddenly reminded of how much she hated the world.

“B-but _why?_ Chungha-yah?” Nayoung kneeled in front of her, clutching her hand. “I thought you’re fine here!”

Chungha sat on their bunk bed, head low. She was _numb_ , _devastated_ , _fucked_ , _disgusted_. Every single vile thing she could come up with. She liked—no, she _loved_ it here. So, so much.They were the best people that happened to her.

“Chungha-yah?” Nayoung’s tears streamed down from her eyes down to her cheeks, and into Chungha's clenched fists. Her hands were shaking and bone-white, and she had to take deep breaths to keep herself from screaming.

Nayoung didn’t deserve to see her in this state. So she had to try her damnedest not to.

“My f—“ Nayoung jumped when she saw Chungha’s jaw clench in controlled rage. “My.. _benefactor.._ wanted to dump me somewhere else by next year. He will handle all my school expenses, from now on. Also my lodging fees. All the money-involved bullshit. I will have to quit my part time job, too. The man.. already contacted Miss BoA.”

In the span of three years of living together, Nayoung had never seen Chungha like this. _And it scared her._

“Y-your benefa…? You mean your dad—“

“Don’t call him that.” She spat venomously. Then she softened when she saw Nayoung being visibly shaken. Feeling guilty, she reached out to touch the other girl’s pale face, wiping the tear-stains away. “I’m sorry.. He’s not worthy of being called in any of those titles.” Her voice came out as a whisper when she wrapped her arms around Nayoung. “I’m really sorry, Nayoung-unnie. We can call or text each other, we’ll always stay in touch, okay?”

So, that’s how she ended up in this 5-star looking flat in SM Town. All the glitz and glamour of the place looked cold and superficial in comparison to her warm little apartment filled with happy memories.

Shared with the most popular guy in the entire university. Oh joy of joys, everyone wanted to be in her place. She could trade off any time of the day, for half a won or even less goddamnit, but then again who was she to complain?

Her dear mom wanted to see her graduate with flying colors. _Dancing can wait, honey, but your future won’t. I’m so sorry, I love you so much, I’m sorry for putting you into this mess, I’m sorry for not being able to make enough money, I’m sorry I’m such an incompetent moth.._

“I know, mom.” She whispered to no one in particular, as she laid in her queen-sized bed at 2 A.M. _I know. I understand. I love you, too._

* * *

The thing about living with a person of the opposite sex (who’s not a lover) was that, it could get extremely awkward or annoying, and there’s no in between. Unlike living with someone of the same gender, the daily rituals and the biological work-up of a man and a woman were just too entirely different.

Or in Chungha’s peculiar case, living with a slightly obsessive-compulsive, germaphobe antisocial young man who was addicted to Febreeze and scented candles. And PUBG. And possibly all kinds of furry critters or birds (or bugs, frogs, praying mantis, you name it) in their building. She had to dump at least 5 cans of tuna each week because they ended up stacking in the balcony.

The first month was the most difficult, since they were forced to get along and understand each other’s habits and boundaries. A lot of fighting and arguments were involved, ranging from petty (“Give me back my underwear!”“Why the fuck would I even touch your things?”) to very serious issues that involved a lot of hurt pride and slamming doors. It went to a point wherein Taeyong’s sister had to intervene and talk to them, sternly lecturing the two seething young adults (who were sitting at each corners of the sofa, trying their best to stay away from each other as far as possible) to act _like_ adults, for goodness sake. _Her 4-year old toddler could act better than any of them combined._

The second month was barely tolerable, as they started to just simply coexist. Maybe their hectic schedules helped diffuse their animosity since they saw each other less, and when they actually did, they were stressed over other (more important) things. Toothbrushes were side by side each other, indoor slippers stacked together at the front door. Taeyong gradually became more used to her laundry tangled with his on some days, when he cooked dinner while she vacuumed the floor and dusted cabinets. Chungha had made an automatic list in her head to buy the cleaning brands he recommended whenever she did groceries, and on other days he even dared to bombard her with more lists and home appliances/accessories in her texts messages because _she was better in driving and thus could carry three times her body weight._ That argument always made her eyes roll. It’s not that he was bad with driving, he literally didn’t know how to drive.. And he had no plans in learning as of late, because _why should he when he had a driver?_

The third month was a bit.. better, in a sense that they could actually rant to each other during dinner whenever they had bad days. Taeyong could already crack laid-back jokes (without any malicious intent, unlike the first day) more than usual, and Chungha could bite back a smile, but just a tiny bit. But then again, arguments still ensued, but it didn’t end up as bad as before. They could actually reconcile a few hours later. Not by apologies, but in little things, like leaving a fresh loaf of his bread on his computer table while he showered, or a cup of chamomile tea delivered on her table when she felt like setting all her thesis papers on fire at 11 P.M.

Chungha didn’t expect that they would actually be this respectful. So, she was glad. At least.

* * *

**AUTHOR'S NOTE** : In case some people missed my tags, I will just have to let you know that this fic will contain lots of emotionally taxing scenes. Just in case you get triggered over panic attacks and depression, I will have to warn you in advance. Future chapters will also contain multi-pairing with very adult content. _THERE WILL BE SMUT. LOTS OF IT_. So to my underage readers, please be fully aware.

**(In case you haven’t noticed, all my titles are the english lyrics from Chungha’s ‘Why Don’t You Know.’ Just a quick, random info hehe)**


	4. I don't know when this all started

God forbid if Chungha’s head was about to split any minute now.

Shrill cries from the digital alarm clock were dutifully neglected by the young woman who indulged under the comforts of her blanket. The rainstorm was incessant against her window pane, probably knocking off a few of her hanging plants and orchids. Skies were grayer than usual, mornings demanded for more layers of jackets, heaters needed to be fixed in haste.

And to top it all off, her hormones were acting crazy enough to set her period cramps into overdrive. So much that her whole body felt like it acquired arthritis _overnight._

Sitting up was much more difficult than usual, the position throwing her lower abdomen into the flames of hell. It was of utmost knowledge that her morning classes would start in about thirty minutes or so and she had wasted about ten minutes just staring at nothing in particular, but she felt too sick to even bother brushing her teeth.

She had to bite back a sob when she dragged her feet out of her room with slow, measured steps, that jarred her from the dull pressure that was gradually forming around and between her thighs. The living room seemed darker, too. Some of of the curtains flailed along with the wind that entered through the sliding door that was slightly ajar, leading to the balcony.

“Hey.”

She flinched inadvertently, the voice suddenly too loud on her hypersensitive ear. She turned to see the person in question, and was met by Lee Taeyong’s disconcerted stare.

“Hey—“ Suddenly realizing how much her throat hurt when voice came out as a strangled croak, Chungha’s body shook when she was attacked by a spell of coughs. Vertigo flooded her disoriented sense, affirming that she was two seconds away from passing out—

—when strong arms wrapped around her, shielding her from the inevitable nosedive.

“ _Nghnyong.._ ” She whimpered softly against his black leather jacket. The room was spinning, his big hands on her small waist were firm, the scratch of his freshly pressed jeans were comforting against her bare legs, and he smelled of soap and aftershave and man cologne.

“Holy shit.” He wheezed. Chungha’s forehead was gingerly pressed against his cheek. She was about to tell him how _cold_ he felt when the world suddenly shifted and one of his arms were suddenly wrapping behind her legs. “What the _hell,_ Chungha. Stay absent for the day.”

“I-I can’t..” She couldn’t see the worry in his eyes and the way he huffed in exasperation because her face was still buried in his neck. “Our.. case study is due today..”

“Who cares about case studies when you could barely walk?”

She couldn’t even think of a smart-assed way to respond when he laid her down the couch. Normally, this kind of skinship would have gotten her into shambles and she might’ve actually called him a pervert. Normally this would have kindled another altercation that would lead them to cursing and swearing off each other.

But maybe she liked his hand on her forehead because it was cool and comforting and soft, and maybe she liked the solid body heat support he provided because it was too darn cold outside and she was wearing nothing but a thin white shirt and girl boxers, or it could be the way he looked down to her, or the way his tongue parted the two folds of thin chapped lips while he talked about some medicine she couldn’t quite grasp.

“—paracetamol is taken every 6 hours, then if you want, I could make pumpkin chicken soup for dinner later. Don’t be reckless anymore! Do you have any idea how many times your mom calls me in a week just to check on you? She would kill me if you end up dead in some sketchy place—“

It must be the hormones. It honestly must’ve been.

“—Yah, are you even listening to me? _Yah!_ ”

She merely blinked. “Ah.. What?”

He breathed out, mildly agitated. She suddenly felt the strong urge to pet his ash-colored hair as he brushed his hand against it. He had a habit of dyeing it into the colors of the rainbow for some odd reason every week. Last week it was a fluffy cotton-candy pink that made him look inexplicably soft. Now he was all manly and kind of rough looking and—

“—See? This is the reason why I got mad at you last night for going to the convenience store without an umbrella! Seriously! I don’t understand why you have an addiction for instant noodles when I can make better ramen than—“

“.. I’m on my period.” She blurted out suddenly, all sense of timidity thrown out of the window. “Can you.. please buy me sanitary pads?”

 _“W-what the— are you serio—”_ He sputtered, nearly choking on his own saliva.

“.. Yes.” She winced in pain as a sharp contraction shoot down her lower abdomen again. Her body curled, one of her hands clutching at his white shirt in desperation while the other cradled the affected body part. Alarmed, he massaged her back carefully as he reached out to his backpack for his bottle of water.

“Hey, hey.. Drink this first.” His hand wrapped around the back of her neck to elevate it minimally, urging her to angle her chin in a way that the paracetamol and water would not cause her to asphyxiate.The medicine left such a bitter taste in her tongue that she had to try her best not to retch the disgusting abomination while it slid past her throat.

“Don’t push yourself too hard..” She heard him speak softly again, his warm breath fanning against her face. “You’re absolutely too ill right now. And you’re not even eating well, or sleeping well. Whose body wouldn’t break down with your kind of life style, huh?”

Tears managed to escape at the corners of her eyes. She really, truly, physically hurt. And she hated being melodramatic for little things, most especially. But she wanted chocolate sundae ice cream. And sappy romance movies. And maybe a little snuggling and spoiling and someone telling her she’s the best girl in the world.

“.. Shut up.” She weakly retorted. But it was all talk and no bite, and he knew it.

He then got up and disappeared in his room.

Chungha felt a sudden loneliness with his absence. Reaching for her phone on top of the low table, she went through her contacts and held it against her ear, yearning to hear a certain voice she hadn’t heard for a long while. But there was no answer.

“Are you calling your mom?”

She looked up to see him with two layers of newly washed comforters in his arms.

“Ah.. no. Nayoung-unnie…” She grimaced when she redialed for the third time. “She’s not answering my phone calls as much lately..”

“Not everyone’s awake at seven in the morning, Chungha-yah.” He straightened the comforter first before covering her with it. And another layer on top of it.

“But, I called her later before, and she kind of cuts me short and tells me she’s busy. I wonder if she’s avoiding me.”

Taeyong gave her a permissive look. “Maybe you’re overthinking too much.”

Chungha felt rather insulted. “Excuse you? I know her more than you do.”

“Yeah, but I also know that you are emotional train wreck during certain days of the month.”

Before she could even retaliate, he pressed her shoulder against the sofa. “You seriously need to rest. And don’t make me say it again.”

Chungha was still glaring at the doorframe even several minutes after he left.

Then she stared at her phone again, a wistful expression on her face.

_Nayoung-unnie.. What are you up to these days?_

* * *

Kim Nayoung was a glutton for heartbreak.

Or at least, that’s what she realized as she laid motionless and naked on the humongous king-sized bed that was not hers.

It wasn’t the fact that she just had to see her secret ex-boyfriend french kissing her leading lady on a secluded restaurant a few months ago, or the fact that he had to reason out to her later on that it was all for publicity’s sake when she went out for his neck. It wasn’t the fact that she got straight-shit faced after she dumped his pathetic superstar ass when he made sure to claim he was too happy to oblige her wishes. It wasn’t even the fact that she moped silently for months, wanting to call her friends but stopping herself because she was afraid of inconveniencing them with her pitiful lamentations—so her only way of coping was through suffocation in night clubs and appearing half-drunk during her work shifts.

Or that she had to go and mess around with some college boys whose faces she couldn’t remember to erase the kisses and and intimacy that she and he-who-shall-not-be-named shared.

It was because of a few weeks after that, when she was completely breakup-inebriated and depressed, and her boss was suddenly fucking her senseless from the back in the coffee shop bathroom at two in the morning. She did try to be professionally distant at first. _She honestly did._ Hot employers were a definite no-no on one-night-stands because they could cause complications that would be too nasty to get back from.

But if he wanted to play anatomy on her, she wasn’t sure if her could resist him at all, if he was actually pinning her against the wall of the stock room and lodging his well-versed tongue in between her legs. Or her throat. Or somewhere else.

Or fingering her in public, when she was off to make drinks and she had to pretend her indignant squawk was due to her excitement for her confused costumer and not from multiple orgasms with his skillful hands.

She wasn’t sure if the fact that his apartment-slash-music studio was located a floor above the coffee shop was for business convenience or for situations like these to happen. She wasn’t totally surprised when he brought some women upstairs during her first months of employment four years ago. To be fair, he was a giant hunk of a man with a face that every magazine would kill to cover and a multitude of talents that would let any fan or hater know that God took a little more time on him compared to others. Of course women would pay a shit ton of money to kiss the path that he walked on. He was allowed to gloat, even just for a bit.

Park Chanyeol was, after all, a busy man with a reputation to uphold.

The aforementioned man groaned beside her, his voice resonated as deep as how he grounded her last night. Nayoung pinked at the memory. Even after a few months of responding to his.. _nightly stress needs_.. she still felt shy to be beside such perfection, both in dealing with employees or costumers or friends, or in bed. Her ex paled by tenfold in comparison to him when it came to pleasuring women, if her ex was any good at all. She watched his back muscles flex as he sat up, eyeing her in return with a lazy look.

Her mind was screaming that this was all wrong. What she was doing could lead from one disaster to another. Chanyeol may be a lot of things, but he could be her worst mistake if she played with _fire_.

“Slept well?” He was the first to smirk, and suddenly all of Nayoung’s thoughts went to oblivion. The only thing she could think about was the wetness in between her legs and the way he tugged at the hand cuffs that was keeping her fixated on the spot.

 _“Boss.”_ She couldn’t help but bite back, fuck it. _“Please release me.”_

His smirk turned into a shit-eating grin when he crawled on top of her. “Release you? In what way do you mean?”

The innuendo in his words were thick.

“I mean—“ Her sentence was cut off rudely when he suddenly slipped into her. _Hard_

“Like this?” The chuckle he liberated resonated into her earlobes when she moaned under his ministrations, his wet tongue painting her neck with his bite marks.

Thoughts of her ex, Chungha, Sejeong, and Doyoung faded as her body rode helplessly along with his push and pulls—each stab deeper and rougher than the last. Her phone was ringing for a while now, but she couldn’t actually reach for it, could she? Not if she was willingly tied and fucked out of her mind, loneliness and longing for physical company be damned

His eyes watched her every move as he sucked and nibbled her breasts.

_“Boss.. Cha.. Chanyeol-ah!”_

Nayoung felt her body convulse as his pounding became even more erratic. He growled hotly into her ear when he felt her contract against him, making him burst into her after one final hard thrust. Nayoung reached for him, her insides going soft as he accepted her open arms with eagerness that made her heart skip a beat.

Some moments after, Chanyeol reached for his pants and nonchalantly pulled into them. Hand-brushing his bedhead, he looked back at her trembling and sprawled form, before shutting the door behind him.

_As if nothing happened._

“Be at the coffee shop at 9.”

She wasn’t supposed to feel this empty, _but here we are._


	5. shake me dizzy

**Au/N: Hello!**

**I'm terribly sorry for the delay. I'm a student, you see. My academic demands and the current worldwide situation nearly sucked the life out of me.**

**ANYWAY. I've already had this chapter in my laptop for a long time, along with other (future) chapters. Only that I needed to make some polishings and whatnot. Hehe.**

* * *

With her mobile phone in one hand and an umbrella handle in the other, Kim Sejeong pressed the redial button for the 12th time.

She looked like a sportswoman who just happened to pass by with her red joggers and matching sweater. Her disheveled hair and uncanny expression looked funny and strange to passing mothers with school children, as if she had no idea how or why she ended up in that little corner of town. Maybe she really didn’t?

Who knows.

She may or may not have came her on purpose. She may or may not have ditched her morning bike rides to travel for almost an hour away from her campus-dorm.

Meeting Nayoung in front of Coffee Park’s patio at 7 in the morning was not a part of her daily routine anymore. Ever since they had a _little_ shouting match a month ago, she thought that Nayoung would apologize and explain _,_ like she always did.

But she didn’t. Not even called or read her chats or something. And it was incredibly unsettling for Sejeong because this never happened before.

She wasn’t the type who’d pry so desperately when it came to Nayoung’s life. Or rather, back then she didn’t have to. Because Nayoung told her everything.

But here she was.

It took all of Sejeong’s willpower not to smash her thumb against the doorbell. She cursed beneath her breath, trying her best not to bang her fists against the glass door. The first months of Nayoung not replying to her messages, the blatant lies about her nightly whereabouts, the dazed expression, the turtle necks that she’d been wearing lately… She should have read the signs better.

Damn, how could she even call herself a best friend?

Sejeong only found out about the good-for-nothing bastard actor’s infidelity when his pathetic rich mama’s boy face was all over the news several months ago. She and Chungha tried to talk to her about it, even offered to buy drinks and some grilled pork, but she refused. Told them she could handle it and they should mind their own business already. What the hell.

To say that Sejeong felt betrayed was an understatement. Amongst other things.

The idea of picking at the door locks had begun forming into her mind when a series of relentless honking of a car from behind stopped her schemes. She realized that, with her face nearly pressed against the glass door and both of her hands wrapping tightly around the locked door-knob, she must’ve looked pretty damn suspicious already.

“Sejeong-ah?”

When she peered at the rolled-down window of the sleek, black Audi, a curse nearly slipped out of her mouth.

Ah, shit _._

_Just.. what the hell. Of all the people—_

“What are you doing here, Sejeong-ah? Shouldn’t you be at your first subject already?”

Oh Sehun, the most famous alumni from the forensic biology department, raised a perfectly-shaped brow due to her apparent loss for words.

“..A-ah, hyungnim. I was just—“ She smiled through gritted teeth. Dread found its way to the pits of her stomach. “Yeah, you’re right. I just… figured I wanted to get coffee.”

“You came all the way _here_ just for coffee? When we have almost all of the best coffee shops in Korea surrounding the campus?”

“…”

“Come quickly, then. I’m heading to the university, anyway.”

She really didn’t care about the stupid first period, anymore. But if she had declined, there would be so much more than a few questions, and the last thing she wanted to happen was to let this smart man dish out all of her dirty laundry.

Sejeong had no choice but to obey.

Everything about Sehun’s car was the perfect representation of himself—beautiful, modern, chic, shiny exterior, with the interiors designed in expensive velvety finish, with a more angular front styling and bumpers incorporating upright winglet-style elements on both sides and a wider and hungrier-looking grille. Sejeong had to breathe through her mouth to avoid inhaling too much Bentley and luxury, or else she might puke.

“This is so unlike you. I always thought you were the type who’d choose practicality over preference, Sejeong-ah..” Sehun gave her a lopsided smirk as soon as he restarted the engine.

She could only laugh nervously when she positioned her belt in place. “Ah, well, there are days where I can be completely unreasonable and choose something random, Hyungnim..”

“Aish, back with the hyungnim, again?” Sehun clicked his tongue when they finally hit the main road. “I thought you started calling me oppa last week?”

“I just don’t want anyone to misunderstand, hyungnim. A lot of my classmates wee already wondering about our—I mean, friendship.”

The smooth sound of the Audi’s engine permeated the space between them, as if it could distract them from the elephant in the car. Sehun quietly changed gears and sped along the almost empty highway.

“But Sejeong-ah..” He turned to her softly, his eyes holding meaning. “It’s only the two of us here.”

Sejeong’s throat felt dry. Her eyes traced the attractive veins that made intricate pathways on the alabaster skin of his forearm, up to the rolled white sleeve of his freshly pressed dress shirt, to the bulging biceps that threatened to rip through his clothes, to the curve of his collared neck to his bobbing Adam’s apple, up to the plump of his reddish-pink lips to the twinkle in his dark, pretty eyes—

Oh Sehun was definitely a beauty to behold.

He was loyal to a fault, caring, protective, and a true gentleman by nature. And for the past few years of them being co-workers, together with the best forensic scientists of their university, he had never failed to express his tender attraction towards her. Not by words, but by actions.

Sejeong quickly looked away. The slight flutters in her chest were quickly eaten away by misplaced guilt.

There were times when she wanted to reciprocate and give back what he had given, when she wanted to think about him before she slept, or let her thoughts linger in his physical attributes. She really did try to trick her brain into falling in love with him, once or twice, or maybe even more than she could care to admit.

But… What if her heart belonged to someone else?

She wanted him. But she could never love him wholeheartedly.

Not when, instead of his sweet words and meaningful promises, her thoughts were filled with summer sleep overs and ice pops and strawberry gloss-covered lips and glittery eye-shadow when she was naive and sixteen years young. Not when, instead of his chivalrous deeds and fancy dinner offers, her dreams consist of nothing but sweaty soft bodies pressed together in one bed underneath hello kitty blankets and giggly whispers echoing through the night.

She could never love him wholeheartedly. Because she was terribly, undeniably, deeply in love with her straight best friend.

————————————————————————————————————————————————

Doyoung felt his heart being ripped out of his chest as he watched by the entrance.

He could see Sejeong gingerly thanking the handsome alumni as soon as she stepped out of his car. A few onlookers visibly gasped when they saw the scene unfold before them, whispering and pointing at the pair loudly with their breaths filled with mirth. ‘Sejeong and The Oh Sehun arriving on campus together?’ ‘Are they a couple already?’ He could hear the wails of the young men and women behind him. But Doyoung couldn’t have cared. It was still seven-twenty five in the morning, and he was supposedly half-asleep and slightly hopeful, yet his day was already ruined.

Screw waiting for a girl who could not even understand his heart despite him doing every possible thing he could to get closer to her. Screw morning texts and the two cups of coffee in his hand, this damn frothy frappuccino with caramel and cream on top. Shit.

What was he even here for?

Why the hell did he even care?

His head and heart was about to explode. He knew what was coming for desperate people, but he didn’t expect it to hurt this much.

He was so pissed off that he lost awareness of his surroundings. The 4000 won worth of caffeinated drink was completely, and quite literally, tossed towards the trash with the least grace. All thoughts of environmentalist shit got lost upon him into oblivion. Hell. He could’ve kicked a skunk somewhere and he wouldn’t even give a fuck anymore.

Until his body hit something bigger and very much _alive._

Doyoung fell to the floor with a resounding thud.

“Oh, sorry. Are you oka—“ The unsuspecting victim started, but he quickly stood up and knocked off the guy’s outstretched hand with a stiff _I’m fine go away._

Doyoung’s steam didn’t dissipate in the slightest even when the guy was approached by his friend. _Sejeong came to school with Sehun. Sejeong might have been sleeping with Sehun. Sejeong was going to marry Sehun and they will have children and he’d be miserable and lonely forever—_

That was all that mattered to him as of the moment. He couldn’t give a damn about tall, muscular punks who looked like they could yeet Doyoung off to another dimension.

He was already heading to the building before he even thought about it, leaving the disoriented behind him.

“Johnny-hyung, you okay? I mean—who shat on that guy’s breakfast tho?”

“Sheesh. Tiny angry rabbit jumped at me as if I stole his mom’s underwear and he didn’t even try to apologize or something. Yeah, I’m fine, Jaehyun. Anyway…”

————————————————————————

“Ahem. May I have your attention, please?”

The hustle and bustle of the students quietened as soon as Son Seungwan, or better known by her American name as Wendy Son, stepped up to the stage podium. It was a cold and peaceful midday for everybody, and it was the perfect moment to gather all the bachelor of science courses together at the open gym for the upcoming university sports festival. The student council president smiled as soon as they naturally fell into place.

“Thank you. So, as you all know..”

As Wendy continued to carry the task that was expected of her, most of the students were as attentive as goldfishes. The Wayv boys from mechanical engineering clowned each other in hyper mandarine and cantonese, some were half awake and wished to get out of there, the few who were actually paying attention were just there for the speaker’s occasional perfect English interjections in between her perfect Korean, some took this opportunity to flirt with the students from other courses, and the rest were just lost in their own little worlds.

Somewhere in the back, the more intimidating and good-looking computer engineering ‘gang,’ as what most people call them, huddled like a pack of wolves.

“Taeyong-hyung..” A mischievous-looking freshman from the aforementioned group nudged the sleepy senior beside him. “What kind of guy does Chungha-noona like?”

“Stop bothering me, Haechannie. I’m not in the mood.”

“Since when have you been in the mood, hyung?”

Said freshman only received a grunt.

“Hyuuuung. Does Chungha-noona like the cute boy type? Or is she the daddy-type? Is she a dom or a sub?”

“Haechan, for God's sake. Keep your mind off the gutter.”

“But hyung..!” Haechan pouted childishly. “How am I supposed to win noona’s heart if you’re being so ridiculously protective?”

Taeyong shifted his position, putting more weight on his left leg. Wendy’s speech was getting long and boring and he was hungry. “I’m not protective. Your questions are just outrageous.”

The younger kicked the ground for dramatic measure. Wayward dust flew randomly about and made Taeyong’s eyes water. “That’s because you’re so iffy when it comes to noona! Even your body language screams protective! Are you really sure you’re not keeping her for yourself, hyung?”

“That’s right.” Yuta Nakamoto, the handsome Japanese native behind them, wrapped an arm around the tinier Haechan as if to show that they were joining forces. “Just admit it and we’re out of your hair. You’re acting like it’s not totally normal to have the hots for your wholesome but sexy childhood roomy.”

“How many freaking times do I have to tell you that it’s not like that?”

“Yeah, dude, keep telling that to your lecherous self.” Yuta made a face at him while Haechan got visibly distracted elsewhere. “Ah, to share a room with the beautifulest Chungha-noona.. She’s so unreal, man. Look at that face..”

Taeyong turned to Haechan. “Fix your grammar, kid. And stop hallucinating, Chungha’s not even here.”

But Haechan didn’t seem to hear. He beamed dreamily, his gaze unfocused. “She looks so cute, hyung. Like a doll in bubble wrap covering.” He gasped in theatrical motion and clutched his chest. “She unleashes the manly in me..”

“Are you high? I’m telling you she’s at hom—“

“She's actually a cutie.” Yuta turned to his overly-smitten donsaeng with a grin of his own, completely ignoring the bewildered Taeyong. “Not my type but I won’t mind carrying her bags if she asks me to. She looks a bit sick today though. Not gonna lie.”

His head turned to the direction that they were facing. “I swear you’re looking at the wrong person—“

His words caught up in his throat when his gaze finally landed on _her_. Wrapped in layers of clothing like a burrito, Chungha stood at the farther edge with a flustered but determined face and a gait that could topple over any second. Irritation and concern quickly swelled inside him.

What the hell is she doing here?

Taeyong wasted no time in plucking his phone from his pocket to type something rather furiously. Hitting send, he glared at her. Hard. As if angrily staring enough would teleport her back to their dorm. He saw her jump ever so slightly when his message, he suspected, reached her.

_Why are you here? You should’ve stayed at home._

_-Ty_

Chungha’s eyes widened by a fraction, then spun her head around until she saw his glower. She returned it with a dirty look of her own and replied in haste, turning her body around so that she will be completely out of his line of sight.

_Please stop telling me what to do, I can handle myself._

_-Chungha_

Taeyong couldn’t stop the groan from escaping his mouth. This stubborn woman..

_By the way, thanks for the chicken soup. Please give me the grocery receipt later so that I can pay you back._

_-Chungha_

_There’s no need for that. Your mom sent the groceries herself._

_-Ty_

_You do realize that your temperature was 39 degrees, right? Be pragmatic and go home before I send your mom another picture of your bull head_

_-Ty_

_Are you threatening me?_

_-Chungha_

Taeyong simply couldn’t take it anymore.

It took 2 missed calls and three rings before she finally answered.

“You’re being so damn unreasonable, do you know that?” Taeyong hissed.

The girl at the other end merely shrugged. “If you’re calling just to harass me in public, then you’re better off in my block list.”

“Chungha-yah!” His voice rose a little too loud. “You little—“

Then the line went off. Haechan slowly pointed an accusing finger at the flabbergasted leader. “..Hyung..”

Taeyong turned him with a deadpanned expression.

“… You _flirt_! Hyung, how could you do this to me?!”

“Why don’t you and that chick just go back to your dorm and finally act on your heated sexual tension?” Yuta bellowed a demonic laugh as if he found the entire situation highly entertaining. “Fucking driving me insane when y’all have all the time in the world to bend hips and get freaky—“

“NO!”

Everyone’s eyes turned to them. Including Wendy, who seemed like she wasn’t too happy with the interruption. “Excuse me, Mr. TY Track, you do not agree with my plan? how about we hear your plan instead?”

Taeyong could feel his hair turning gray as the entire population doubled in laughter.

————————————————————————————————-

She needed to get out of there.

The pink walls and distinctly feminine air freshener felt like a temporary source of comfort. No soul resided in the cubicles, which added up to more breathing spaces despite the light aroma of ammonia that’s typical of a public toilet. Chungha let out a sigh upon leaning against the sink. The tiles were slightly chipped off and the humongous mirrors were hazy from the lack of daily wiping, but other than that, the whole place was fairly pristine. Which was good for her sanity. She really couldn’t tolerate the mighty unwashed.

The throbbing under her bellybutton had lessened to a duller ache, and it was a huge improvement in comparison to her previous torment earlier that morning. She hated to admit but the medicine that Taeyong gave definitely restored a bit of her vigor. And the food that he so carefully prepared was a blessing.

She casted her gaze to her boots and bit her lip guiltily.

She honestly did not plan to snap at him that way.

She really was genuinely, wholeheartedly, thankful for what he did. She knew that he had always been the kind who’d pester annoyingly at anyone else’s business if he thought they needed help, but she didn’t think that she would be at the receiving end, considering their confusing situation. It wasn’t much, but she even prepared something for him before she left, laid out carefully in his bed, so that it would not be too humiliating for her when he actually saw it. Even she was somehow excited to see his reaction to it.

But when he started bossing her around, something inside her _cracked_ in the middle, and her deep, dark, well-hidden emotions almost got the best of her.

She huffed despairingly. The faucet gave a resounding screech when she turned the knob to splatter her face with cold water.

_Control. I need some control._

“Oh. Hello there.”

She barely registered the click-clacking of heels before turning to the owner of the voice.

A voluptuous, tanned-skinned woman wearing short, short denim booty shorts that exposed well-toned legs and a tight yellow tank top that hugged her luscious waist and ample breasts, with gold hoop earrings and sultry eyeshadow, stood by the entrance. Her hips swayed when she stood beside the smaller woman, all the while balancing her weight expertly between her stilettos.

She reminded Chungha of the American women she used to see on the streets of Texas when she was about ten years old.

The woman smiled sweetly at her. “You must be Yongie’s little sheep.”

Surprise etched on her face. “Um. Excuse me?”

She giggled before opening her red purse to reapply her lipstick. Chungha tried her best to busy herself by counting the lint on her jacket. She felt awkward, confused, and she didn’t know if she should bolt or stay there right there to be the ultimate idiot.

“Taeyong. You obviously know him, right?”

“I—“

“Be careful around wicked, manipulative playboys like him, okay?” The woman dared a side-glance. “One minute he’d be caring and sweet, and the next thing you know, he’d pound you into unimaginable pieces once he got what he wanted. He could charm his innocent act into your white lily like he owns the garden of Eden.”


End file.
